tanbnotw
by Canorem
Summary: story moved december seventh 2015 / now under the name kissedbydirt ...


**This story** is called _"There Are No Bastards North Of The Wall"._ I was sure somebody said that to Jon once, it the books or in the show, but I still haven't found any trace of the phrase. It must not have been said.

Enter the story through Kissed by Fire, s03xe05.

* * *

x

**Ygritte**

x

"Ygritte!" He cried. "Ygritte!"

I loved it when Jon Snow said my name, 'specially when he said it just like that- all angry, if you like. His voice was sweet like bees' sap, and I couldn't help but grin. I can't even remember what the taste was like- the taste of that sweet golden stuff.

"Ygritte!"

I got to thinking of what the fine ladies in the South might say t' him calling for me. They'd call it romantic, probably. But they didn't realize I stole his sword. I kept on running, as Jon's voice echoed from the mouth of the cave. "_Seven hells!"_

He followed in after me, just as I was fitting my torch between some rocks.

I was lucky that day. Lucky in the cave itself. I'd disappeared earlier, looking for what could be found- I'd never been so close to the Wall. Tormund saw me off, but he warned me never to start thinking I really knew the area (_'cause that's a fine way to __become a wight_). "_Be careful out there_", he'd said. Every time, just nodded yes and kept on. He never once asked to come along, and in that I was grateful.

On my trip most recent, I heard the sound of running water... And I chanced upon the cave. It was the deepest sort; must've gone on for miles and miles, under the wall and out the South. I called out t' Gendel's children, but no answer came. I heard only the sound of falling water.

* * *

A shallow l'il pool, seductive nonetheless... how long had it been since I'd had a real bath- not just some snow heated over the fire? The water wasn't real cold, not real deep either, so I stepped out of my clothes and let it chase the chill that had settled deep within my bones. Stark naked, I was.  
I thought of Jon Snow.

"Is he right? Orell? Are you still a crow?" I pulled off my boots, letting them fall where they fell. I discarded my weapons.

"Ygritte-" said Jon, in warning.

"You swore some vows- I want you to break them." I dropped my cloak, the weight of it melting off my body. "I'd have you see me," I said, lifting the last of my skins and furs high above my head. "_All_ of me."

I watched his eyes as I proceeded towards him. They were filled with desire and disapproval; it was a battle I wanted to end.

"_We_ shouldn't." The sound of Jon's voice echoed through the cave, until it grew faint.

"We _should_," I said, and a pressed my lips against his.

* * *

x

**Jon**

x

_We shouldn't._ The voice grew fainter as Ygritte drew closer. I'd never see how beautiful she was until just then- fiery and strong.  
_Lucky_, I thought. _She is lucky, fire-kissed._

_And you are a man of the Night's Watch_, the voice insisted, fading like a late Summer's day, as Ygritte brushed her lips against mine. "We should," She'd said, as naked as her name day, red hair fanning out around her shoulders.

Had I never realized her lips were as lucky as her hair? As she bent forward and pressed them against mine, just barely, an electric current buzzed through my body. Still, I managed to hesitate.

"Ygritte, we shouldn't-" said the voice that was no longer my own.

"We should. Jon Snow, we should." She looked directly into my eyes just then. Hers shone as lively as any I knew- full of passion and fire and something I couldn't place. Stirred me in a way I couldn't place. I knew I couldn't resist her for much longer, I couldn't-

"You know nothing, Jon Snow," she said, biting at my lower lip, and the battle was lost. I returned her kisses all at once; I could hear the stranger's voices no more.

"I know I want you," I heard myself say, all my vows and my honour forgotten, lost in the smell of her hair and the heat of her mouth. I kissed her in the way that I thought I was supposed to, and she matched my every motion, pushing up higher on her toes. Her kisses were fervent, and her sweet pink tongue had found its way between my teeth. Harder, harder- as hard as the rock around us. I did my best to counter her fierce kisses, but I was forced to stop when I became short of breath.

"Bit fast for ya?" She teased, slowing... stopping altogether, and I braced myself for another barrage to my lips.

Instead, Ygritte was motionless, aside from her wintry ocean eyes that were filled with a certain longing.  
They darted between mine.

Finally, she smiled at me- I wasn't sure what kind of smile it was. Almost shy. Or as shy as Ygritte ever got.  
I bent forward to meet her, slowly, teasing her in turn. I traced the curve of her lips with my tongue, my open lips suckling with every bit of the gentleness and practiced restraint that she couldn't be bothered with.

I was rewarded with what sounded almost like a wistful sigh. My hand slipped from her chin in time, grazing the line of her jaw to cup her left cheek. Her sigh, this time laced with unmistakable yearning, was exceptionally sweet. Like bees' sap... no, even sweeter.

"A pretty face and pretty kisses will only get you so far," said Ygritte, her voice husky like smoke.

"Aye," I said, "And I've managed just fine." I nuzzled my lips into the soft of her throat. Pretty kisses...  
I pulled her closer still, into our bodies were flush against one another. "Are you cold?" I muttered against her skin, feeling her quiver against me.

"No," she shivered. "It's only you making me feel so."

I snatched another taste of her lips, and as the last of her warmth seemed to melt into my mouth, I hoped to replace it.

* * *

**A/N:** I thought I had the second chapter mostly written, but I guess not. I can promise it's going to take a while longer; I've been really lacking in energy lately. The last thing I want is for this story to be left a long time without update, though, so I'm working on Chapter 2. I really am.

**Today's date:** April 7th, 2015.

**UV:** I had to research tons, especially 'cause I'm a blushing maid, and in Grade 10. My English teacher actually watches Game of Thrones, but he won't talk with me about it any, and I can understand why. He's had a direwolf on his laptop, emblazoned with the words _Winter is Coming_ for as long as I can remember, but I didn't know nothing about anything until the end of 9th Grade.

Please don't be shy, leave a review.


End file.
